featuring Frenchman Jim (navigator / team nutritionalist) / Fireman Sam ( safety officer) / Bailey ( morale officer ) and Julia (the help)
Introduction
Hurricane Callum swept across Wales on Saturday 13th Oct 2018. It featured winds of 100kph and caused the worst flooding seen in Wales for 30 years. This was the auspicious day that James, David, Bailey the (cockerpoo) and I chose to go walking in Pembrokeshire.
Planning
This was to be our 'reunion' walk. We had all (except Bailey) gone camping in South Australia in 2017 then taken the unusual choice of marching across Mount Remarkable National Park in quite a daunting heat without adequate water. We survived that adventure and vowed to be more organised in the future. The trip plans were set for the dates that James was back in England from Canada. He was here for the marriage of a friend. Initial ideas were quite grand .. featuring camping in Lake District (possibly the wettest corner of England). But after a firm discussion about weather we settled on long weekend in Wales on the picturesque Pembrokeshire coast. An area of outstanding natural beauty so all the literature promised us. On the internet St David's Head walk offered good walking combined with the opportunity to grab a wonderful view with our cameras. James did the honours finding an airbnb cottage close to the best walking. David booked a day off work in the middle of a 'busy busy' project in anticipation of a much needed break. and I secured a car for the weekend, and after some banter I offered to do the catering. Simply James was coming a great distance from Leeds ( a cultural wasteland in the North) with Bailey, David was promising to smuggle 'Yorkshire Gold' teabags across the Thames across the breadth of the London Underground system. Consequently it just seemed a good idea to prepare food in advance. I volunteered to prepare the makings of a 'roast' dinner. And my partner Kate offered to cook a Lasagne, possibly to ensure we didn't actually starve.....Payment for this came in the form of a bottle of "Ned' a guilty pleasure from our New Zealand days.
Friday
The logistics were simple but subject to the whims of public transport. On the day of travel to Wales Dave had to divert his preferred route to Teddington, however he was still a very prompt arrival. We immediately hit my local shop (M&S foodhall) for lunch and travel supplies. Meanwhile Frenchman Jim had begun the long journey south on the train. We were to meet in the city of Oxford an hour and a half north west from leafy Teddington. The car made things very easy for Dave and I and we were waiting at the train station when a text from James saying he'd got off a couple of stops early gave us a bit of time to see the sights. As it might be Fireman Daves only Oxford stopover (a place I know quite well) I chose to send him into the wonderful Pitt Rivers / Natural History Museum. Which I think may have been a highlight of our trip for him.
Bailey and handler ... (James) arrived shortly after and we immediately began the 'tea' banter that formed a large part of our daily dialogue at Rising Sun Pictures. Happily Dave's threat to smuggle tea in his 'pants' was merely that. A threat.
The borrowed car may have been slightly too small for our party and all it's baggage. But good humour prevailed and James didn't mention his legs being doubled up under his chin. Still with our team leader (Bailey) in charge things started to go right, a quick pitt stop for a comfort break (beside a sleepy Oxford canal) and then we were on the road West. We had adequate supplies of the usual necessary's. Coffee, pastries and chocolate. Bailey survived on a meagre ration of water, that I found reminiscent of our trials in Aligator Gorge.
I drove, David navigated and control of the stereo was given to James. ... almost immediately the familiar theme by which we had 'saved' Dave from the car park in Aligator Gorge filled the car. To be honest I was much surprised we didn't hear that again all weekend. The team worked as it should although Dave was slightly miffed not to have the correct adaptor to connect his own phone to the stereo. A previous brush with 'coders' thrash metal music has suggested we got off lightly. Still Dave is not one to leave a problem alone and he solved that issue for our return trip .....
We crossed into Wales over the Severn Bridge and Dave immediately understood the cultural difference to England when we encouraged him to try articulating a few place names. It seemed the only easy translation was 'Greggs' (the bakers) which came out suspiciously like 'Costa' the coffee chain.
I was soon to learn that 'Greggs' is a staple of David's UK diet and interestingly James took a holiday from his strict diet of chickens to indulge in pastry treats with an enthusiasm that bordered on the unhealthy.
Once into Wales James and I dropped in the occasional 'Daffid' instead of 'David'. And it has to be said Dave wasn't at all impressed. Owing to it's association with a famously camp character in the series Little Britain. We desisted our Welsh themed teasing with great difficulty. David gamely continued to voice Welsh place names with improbable accuracy, but then neither James or I could have done any better. There are just too my consonants grouped together in ways of fiendish deviousness that defeat the tongues of invading foreigners.
The journey West took 5 hours and enroute we were advised that our proposed destination was suffering from power cuts ... perhaps we should have packed the tents after all. Still after a refuel and brief detour to find milk we arrived at the Granary with power and ready for our arrival. Good choice, it was a 3 Bed cottage with walls at least a foot thick, which suggested to me James had known about the hurricane danger in advance.
Lasagne and chips were on the table piping hot within half an hour and despite our strict diet of carbohydrates on the journey we polished off the lot without a problem. But I'd brought four slices and the cooker could only cope with 3. So one slice was destined to return to Teddington.
James and I indulged in bottles of 'hodor' (hoegaarden wheat beer). And whilst David is teetotal he was just as keen as we were to demolish the 'timtams' and 'celebration' box of chocolates. James bemoaned a lack of cheese to 'complete' the meal. Whereas I felt distinctly overfull.
Before we tucked in for the night we consulted the weather report which was far from encouraging. It wasn't going to be an early start. Which was good for me, as I had spent the best part of 8 hours driving and done a quick stint in the kitchen cooking.
Bailey prowled the grounds before we turned in and James followed him around the garden using his phone as a torch. I was interested to ask James about his latest camera gizmo ... filter holder with ND filters ... sadly the glass filter had not survived the journey to Wales .. ...
Saturday
When I woke it was blowing a 'hooley' (very windy). Still James and I are English and a plan is a plan. We were committed despite the weather. David was kind enough not to voice what he was so obviously thinking. Snacking and wet weather preparations were extensive. A 'spare' roast chicken ensured we all had sandwiches. although both James and David smothered theirs with HP sauce which I thought might have been inspired by a 'Greggs' recipe.
Bailey was first ready and dressed for the weather ahead of the rest of the party. Eventually we hit the road about half past nine. The wind was vicious, but the rain was absent. Dave navigated us through the mess of Welsh backroads to the head of the St David's Walk at Whitesands. And we got there a bit after 10am. The Thrifty welsh parking attendant charged us four pounds for parking, still we had the pick of the whole carpark.
Much rustling and camera prep preceded our actual walk. Baileys tail was an accurate indicator of team morale. (due south) The white sands of the beach were absent, but white horses topped every wave and the safety flag was so straight and rigid it might have been carved from a surfboard.
James made a critical comment for me when he said that the sea was going to be a problem to photograph, especially for a panorama. I listened and realised he'd made a very perceptive observation. So I determined then to look for compositions which excluded the sea. An odd decision given we were on the tip of a peninsula surrounded by it (the sea that is).
David and James had their camera's out and to hand covered by some distinctly homemade weather protection made from plastic bags and camera tape. I took a couple of snaps then stowed my kit inside my rucksack. I didn't intend to document our trip, I wanted my kit dry for 'the shot' of the day. Whatever that was.
We took a bare two steps onto the trail when the rain arrived horizontally with a force like 'stair rods'. James led the way with Bailey who was immediately using James as shelter from the wind and walking behind his legs. James who has legendary long legs was hamstrung by the action and consequently walked at a snails pace. In the end it proved easier if we (David and I) had Bailey's lead then used James as a frontrunner (carrot). Bailey was happy to chase James into even the deepest thicket of gorse and heather.
Five minutes into our hike David tapped me on the shoulder to ask if I'd noticed my weatherproof rucksack cover heading out to sea on a stiff breeze. I had not. Damn ! my kit was now protected by a nicely absorbent rucksack. Planning fail for me. I noted his own waterproof cover was permanently attached by a string to his bag. Good choice I thought.
We passed a smaller headland which could be reached by a walkway but declined to take the detour as the waves were lapping over the steps. Then followed the undulating terrain to the most westerly tip of Wales. St David's Head.
Near the headland Bailey, James and David marched on and I lingered among the lichen covered rocks. This was wonderful terrain, and my precious kit came out to play. I took three compositions over the course of half an hour. During which time David (Safety officer) was trying to find the actual trail and James and Bailey disappeared from my view behind a craggy rock.
Twenty miles south Milford Haven was recording wind speeds in excess of 100kph (the most severe recorded in Wales that day) I think we must have endured something very similar at St David's head.
My first two panos' were done with the wind behind me. My body protecting my kit from the driving rain. My third and predictably my favourite composition was into the wind and the rain splotted the lens completely and thoroughly . I had a lens wipe ... tried again with the same blotchy result. Tried again but gave up when particularly vigorous gust of wind rocked me on my heels. ...It must have been an impressive gust as i was kneeling at the time. I inadvertently used the hand with my dry lens wipe into a puddle behind me.
I loved this spot and was seeing lots of photographic opportunities. However our safety officer was calling time on our interlude and pointing out the path ahead. James, Bailey and I finally took heed and we became unified in our desire to find the quickest route back to the carpark.
We were not going to retrace our route. As it was a circular route so we anticipated the continuing ahead would be just as quick. In the end it seemed we hadn't regained the correct trail. I could see the route on the hillside ahead so I made an executive decision and took off into the heather along a sheep trail. It wasn't exactly a straight path but it did the job and fifteen minutes later our party were walking along a trail wide enough for a landrover car. If we had doubts on the route they were dispelled when we passed a marker that proclaimed the start of the 'St David's Head Trail'.
It is difficult to say who was most pleased to get in out of the rain. I'm guessing we were equally glad although Bailey seemed more dispirited then I felt. Our kit went into the car boot and we sat in the car steaming up the windows as we ate our lunch. We all had a silent meditation with our grub. Watching the two 'mad' surfers paddle among the choppy waters Whitesands.
David was particularly peckish and was keen to get fish and chips as well. OK Sometimes nothing will do but chips and given the beach cafe was open chips is what Dave got. I was keen for a hot drink and so was James. So leaving one person with Bailey ... we took turns in going in to make our orders. With a hot cuppa we debated the options. I was keen to see some more of the coast and eventually we headed off to find another noted spot on the Pembrokeshire coast ... Caerfai Beach. Heck of a spot, and particularly good for flotsam as there were several canoes washed up under the concrete walkway.
Dampness had risen up my shoes and seeped down the back of my neck. I suspect the same was true for us all. Only two of us ventured down to the beach. The boiling mess of water wasn't my thing so I had a go a snapping the glistening wet rocks. I was perched low between two slippery rocks taking a snap when my rear foot slipped conclusively downwards and I crashed down with a distinct thump on my bum. A seagull squealed with laughter as it wheeled away on the wind. But neither of the guys were there to notice or photograph my mishap. And happily my camera didn't suffer any misadventure. Still it was a big ouch, thankfully my current addiction to lasagne gave me adequate protection!
Back in the car spirits were low and I think Dave was slightly regretting the chips, for lack of a better plan we headed back to town and the 'i' point. ('i' for Information). The information available was extensive as were the tourist merchandise .. teatowels and fudge abounded. Given the huge population of sheep I'm surprised there were no gift bottles of mint sauce ... .... I did my usual 'image research' looking for local points of interest on postcards. Simply put 'The Marloes' had my immediate interest, and being a persuasive person as well as having the only set of car keys we were soon on the road south heading there. St David's Head to the Marloes looks a short road trip. In actuality we had an extensive tour of some prime sheep country, one stone walled country lane after another. Everything looking decidedly damp and grim in the hurricane weather.
Our spirits lifted as the air con dried us out. Quite randomly we passed a large group of surfers congregating on the side of the road half dressed in wet suits. I couldn't work out if they were just arriving or leaving. The Marloes carpark held one car. At four pm on a horrid day we chanced the parking fine. Bailey was less inclined to go walking than before, however James was quite persuasive .. picking him up and plonking him on all fours. I left my camera rucksack in the car boot. I was tired and unlikely to want to photograph anything. Carrying the sodden bag up a steep hill seemed unnecessary. (A choice I was to regret an hour later) . As I made the car safe James and Dave had found a seal pup happily lying in the middle of the road quite close to the shingle beach. Meanwhile I was reading the signage and realised I'd heard of this place some time ago. Simply it's the nearest point to 'Scomer Island' home to one the very few breeding colonies of puffins in the UK. A bird that is very definitely photogenic and one I'd very much like to photograph. After an interlude of seal portraiture we negotiated the gate and made for the headland topped by a squat lookout building. Ten minutes up the hill we were confronted by some cattle. Cows and dogs aren't friends. Bailey's safety was of prime concern so we headed off into the heather and gorse along a muddy path in the hope of bypassing the grazing, disinterested beasts. In due course we found ourselves high above a rugged coastline. Dave and James began to document the location with hi res photos. Once they'd exhausted the possibilities we headed to the squat building again. This time the cattle didn't block our progress. The building turned out to be a coastal lookout building. Vacant at our visit with firmly locked doors. It had a fine view in every direction. Particularly out to Scomer Island. Damn, no camera. I immediately high tailed it back to the car to get my kit. James and David were unconcerned. The rain was holding off and they were enjoying the view too. In short with a bit of extra puff I lugged my kit up the hill and took a snap. I felt the conditions were grim and too blustery to do any long exposure fancy stuff. But I took the view on offer. Mostly as I thought it was the best view of the day
The phrase 'roast dinner' wafted almost tangibly in the air. We were more than ready to head back to a warm cottage and our just reward for our hardships. Bailey led the way, almost leaping into back of the car. An impressive feat for our portly morale officer. The drive back to the cottage was along the same stone walled lanes that we'd come along, interestingly a huge industrial complex was very visible. I swear I never saw that on the way out. Turns out that it's an oil refinery for Murco. Quite why it's placed in an area of outstanding natural beauty is one on of those mysteries of the UK planning offices.
Our navigator did a good job and the sight of the Granary Cottage cheered us all. Steaming hot showers were the first and regaining some feeling back in my toes was a painful pleasure.. James found a giant clothes airer in a cupboard and we set out our kit to dry. I also emptied my photo bag and set that aside to dry, I assume everyone else did the same.
As I cooked James researched possible points of interest for our return journey. And Caerphilly Castle was a unanimous choice.
Our evening meal of roast dinner wasn't long arriving. We'd had the presence of mind to bring 'pre cooked' roast veg and a chicken. Just add gravy and a head of broccoli. Along with a good bottle of white it all disappeared so quickly we might have only imagined the food had been on our plates. Our safety officer did a fine job ensuring no glasses were ever empty. A memorable day was rounded off by a prodigious box of chocolates, gift of Kate. Once again the team had survived another extreme environment this time Wales in a hurricane
Sunday
We were packed washed and on the road by 10am ... damn we needed that energy yesterday! Reports of widespread flooding were on the radio and the internet and as we drove past Milford Haven we saw a river that had burst its' banks. Quite soon we were looking for a branch of 'Costa' ... (Welsh for Greggs) . An lucked out with a Starbucks.. .... Coffee .... and porridge for James. Davids persistence with his new phone paid dividends and we were able to listen to 'H2G2TG' original radio play.
Wales is much bigger in daylight and Caerphilly was a long time on the road. A 'Costa' roadside sign was like a call to church and we pulled in .... (obviously to give Bailey a much needed rest break) Meanwhile David and James stocked up on the good stuff. Something for now, and a snack for later I was advised. ...
Caerphilly Castle is Wales largest Castle. As Google maps directed us the landscape was devoid of any evidence ... Where had they put it? Then we rounded a corner and were taken aback by the huge chunk of stone. It had a colour that would do credit to Castle Black in GoT. Whether this was by fire or just staining by industry was not clear. Built in 1271 and overlooked by a statue of it's most famous son, Tommy Cooper (the comedian). With parking ticket for 2 hours the team gathered it's camera tools and headed off for an extensive photo foray. There were plenty of things of interest to point a camera at. Still if they could clean up some of the goose shit I"m sure it would make it nicer for everyone.
'Costa' was on James mind as we left the town. But the moment passed and we were back on the motorway and soon leaving the tongue twisting Welsh road signs for plain old english. More episodes of 'H2G2TG', but as sole driver I was tiring. At my request the radio play was superseded by more lively entertainment .. the word Whitesnake ....comes to mind for some reason. Leaving the main road East at a turning clearly directing us to Oxford I successfully put us on the road to Cheltenham. Errrr sorry guys ... Navigator get us out of here ... The 'dumdum' running google maps was directing us to do an about face. But seeing the main A40 to `oxford was a short cross country detour I made another 'executive decision'. This found us doing 15 mph along a country lane to the village of Cowley rather than a steady 70mph along the motorway. The 'Glorious Twelfth' (start of the shooting season in England) A hundred or pheasants lined the lane. I was amazed, I've never seen such a number outside of the 'runs' that they're reared in. The guys declined to take any photos on the basis my detour meant we might never reach our destination. The Cotswolds were putting on some Autumn colour. I enjoyed detour, although from the look on their faces James and David were worried I was taking them to a 'local shop, for local people.'
At Oxford train station our team leader and navigator left the party to take the train North to Leeds. I dropped the safety officer off at Shepherd's Green tube station. His text to say he was home arrived just as I reached my own doorstep. The navigators text arrived at 10.11pm to say he'd arrived in Leeds. I later learned the train they caught was full to overflowing and they had to stand all the way, a journey of several hours.